Pressure On Our Bones
by graffy
Summary: You haven't had sex in a car since you were nineteen. WilsonCam


Title: Pressure On Our Bones  
Rating: M (for mild sexing)  
Pairing: Wilson/Cameron  
Status: Complete/One-shot  
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'd appreciate not being sued, thankyouverymuch.

* * *

The first time she walks by you in the hospital with her new blonde hair, you almost don't recognize her. But as she passes, head buried in a file, a familiar scent wafts by you and you can't help but grab her arm. She looks up, startled, and you can imagine how odd you look, gaping at her the way you are. 

"Your hair..." you mutter, resisting the urge to push a stray strand behind her ear.

A crinkle forms in the spot above her nose, just between her eyebrows, indicating a frown. Her hand reaches up and pats the hair in question self-consciously. "I thought it was time for a change."

You struggle to hide your swallow, and manage to croak out that you think it looks good. She smiles at you, and as she walks away you feel yourself starting to grow hard, and the only thing that goes through your mind is _well, you've always had a thing for blondes._

000

You find her passed out, dead asleep, in the oncology lounge late one night. You don't know why she's even in there, because she works in the ER, but God, you don't care. She's sprawled out on a couch, barely covered in a spread out jacket. You're hypnotized by the way her chest rises and falls with each deep breath, and you don't realize you're moving closer until you're kneeling right next to her.

Her hair, which only slightly resembles something that was once put into a ponytale, is bedraggled and fanned out around her head. She makes small, soft keening noises in her sleep. Not quite snores, not quite moans...just Cameron.

Nervously, you shove up the sleeves of your oxford to just above your elbows, and run a hand through your usually meticulously groomed hair. The urge to kiss her is overwhelming you, and you stagger to your feet when you realize that you better get the hell out of there before you do it.

And when you leave the room, you don't know that you missed her eyes open and a very awake Cameron follow your figure with her gaze as you stride away.

000

A few weeks ago, she had started coming into your office on lunch breaks, sitting in the chair across from yours and talking until she had to return to the Emergency Room. You talk about everything, you suppose, and nothing. You can't really remember anything but the way her lips look when they form your name.

_James_, she's recently begun calling you. Not Wilson. James.

You ask her why she comes to you every day, and she shrugs and says it's always nice to have someone to talk to.

What about Chase, you ask, and her eyes blink at you and seem larger than they ever have.

What about him, she says.

And that's all you need to know.

000

The first time you kiss her, you're not exactly sure what comes over you. You had woken up that morning following a particularly vivid wet dream, and a hard on to match. All day long you'd been thinking about fucking her, about making love to her, and everything in between.

She comes into your office for your regular lunch time chat, and you realize that there is no way in hell you're going to be able to concentrate. But still, you let her stay. And she talks, and she talks, and all you can hear in your head are the moans from your dream.

You're jolted out of your daydream when she stands to leave, and before her hand is even on the doorknob, you're spinning her around and slamming your lips down onto hers so hard that you wind up pushing her against the wood.

And when she grabs at your collar with both her hands, and kisses you back with more passion than you thought she would, you knew you weren't the only one thinking like this.

000

You haven't had sex in a car since you were nineteen.

It had always seemed cramped and uncomfortable, limbs and movements awkward and restricted by the small space. But it seems that your recent upgrade to an Explorer (a random splurge, one you'd never really understood yourself, but now it seemed like it had been made for this) has been a wise one.

The two of you are necking like teenagers in the backseat, her skirt off and shirt unbuttoned, and you're still fully clothed and fully _hard_, and when she cups you through your khaki pants, you know you're going to lose it. You pull her panties down her legs and off, and she unbuckles and unzips you, shoving your pants and boxers down past your ass.

When you push into her, it's everything and nothing you'd expected. She's hot, she's tight, and she's moaning, threading her hands through your hair and pulling you down to her mouth as the two of you fuck hastily, needing to get back to work as soon as possible.

_James_, she moans when she comes, shaking violently. You gasp out her name when you do, and in the afterglow you're collapsed on top of her, face buried in her neck as the two of you pant for lost breath.

**Well,** she muses, and you can hear the amusement in her voice. **That's definitely happening again.**

000

When House finds out about your relationship, you emerge from his office with a bloody nose and black eye. It seems the bastard's in love with her, however much he's ever denied it. He's furious at you, angry at her, and loathing himself for not taking the opportunity he was given like you did.

Allison cleans you up when you visit her in the ER, and when you tell her House is in love with her, she informs you matter of factly that it doesn't matter.

You ask her why.

She smiles affectionately at you, and says, Because, you idiot, I'm in love with you.

You think the idiotic grin on your face might crack your cheeks, and you don't care because you've never been happier.

**review please**


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